Rice Milk Macabre
by Aiwe Saito
Summary: Johanna Roth's mother always said that the milk of rice cured anything-even a broken heart. But when she stumbles into a hidden labyrinth with the Trio, and is forced to use all of her wits to fight the gruesome maze, will the rule still hold true?
1. Of Stompies and Violins

A/N: Alright, so this is my first story, and my first chapter. I hope you like it, and make sure you read the gloss at the end, or you won't get half of the sentences :)-Ai-:)

Disclaimer: Johanna and China are mine, everythink else is JKR's, and the dialogue up to "Ow" is directly from OoTP.  


* * *

Johanna took a long drag from the white cylinder in her hand, scowling as she ground the cigarette against the railing.

It had been a long day. Peeves had decided that throwing ink bombs at first and second years was fun—which wasn't really a problem, Johanna didn't really care for the sniveling midgets—but he had quickly gotten over that and decided to splatter ink all over at least seventy-five portraits, which were not overly happy about it and kept on whining until Johanna was just about ready to kick a great big giant hole in the middle of their respective canvases.

All of them were quite conveniently 'much too high for us to reach, thank you so much Miss Johanna, we appreciate her works so much, Miss!', and she had been left holding the bag (although it was more of a bucket filled with portrait cleaner); but then again, all of the house-elves were slightly miffed at Dumbledore's decision to allow her into the kitchens.

As was she. She scowled again, flicking the singed end of her cigarette into the dark and walking back into her room, shutting the door just a bit louder than necessary.

If she was lucky, she might be able to sleep tonight.

"Miss Johanna? Is Miss Johanna awake?" a squeaky, heavily accented voice asked from behind her.

"Si, Leche, I'm awake." Johanna said with a sigh, looking forlornly at the bed.

"Oh, Thank Goodness, Miss. Miss is needed by Master, Miss. Master says he is sorry, but it is an emergency, Miss." Leche said, coming in, looking slightly nervous. She gave him an encouraging smile, despite the fact that all of the Misses and Masters were giving her a headache.

"Thank you Leche, tell him I'll be there in a moment." Leche hesitated, and she groaned inwardly.

"Ag!" she said shortly. "Fine. If you would please step outside for a moment, I'd be happy to oblige our dear Master." She said sneeringly; but in true House-Elf fashion, Leche didn't seem to notice her sarcasm.

"Thank you Miss." he said with a bow, leaving the room. Johanna felt around her hips for a moment, pulling out a half-empty package of cigarettes and pulling one pristine white one out, lighting it with a flick of her wrist. She debated whether or not to have a quick smoke outside or to take it with her, but she figured, to hell with it.

"If Dumbledore wants to bitch at me, well then let him bitch." she muttered. "It's his blery fault in the first place." she said, and with that, tossed the package on the bed, and left the room.

Apparently, she wasn't lucky.  


* * *

The three delinquent students walked back to the castle, still slightly shaken up and angry at what had just occurred between Hagrid and Dolores Umbridge. Hagrid, of course, had appeared relatively unperturbed—"Look, don' you go worryin' abou' me, I promise yeh I've got really good stuff planned fer yer lessons now I'm back… Now you lot had better get back up to the castle, an' don' forget ter wipe yer footprints out behind yeh!"—but they were a little more concerned.

"I dunno if you got through to him." Ron said as they walked back towards the castle, Hermione performing an Obliteration Charm behind them. Hermione set her jaw determinedly.

"Then I'll go back tomorrow!" she said irritably. "I'll plan his lessons for him if I have to. I don't care if she throws out Trelawney, but she's not—"

"Ow! Bloody Hell, what was that?" Ron asked, shaking his head furiously. A small white object dropped out of his hair and fell into the snow, letting out a sharp hiss as it hit the ground. Harry looked down at it, then up above their heads.

"I think it's a fag, Ron." Harry said after a moment, picking up the cigarette and pocketing it.

"I din' know any of the Professors smoked." Ron said, wrinkling his eyebrows. "Did you, Hermione?"

She shook her head, looking just as confused.

"Huh." Ron said as they continued back to the castle. "Weird."  


* * *

Johanna glared at the gargoyles that guarded the Headmaster's office. She loathed them—they looked too much like the ones she had first seen when she had left her beloved Mzansi, her lovely, sunny, bright and colourful South Africa to come here; to this dark brooding place where everyone was pale and puckered, like maas , the sour milk drink she had loved as a child.

She hated them.

"I see you seem to find my stone friends rather engrossing." A voice said from behind her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, Meneer, they scare me a little. I don't like them at all." Johanna said bluntly, turning around to face the Headmaster.

"Yes, they are a bit grim, aren't they? But this is a castle, and we must keep up our appearances…" he said, and she shrugged apathetically. He gave her a sad smile.

"Now, something came for you in the mail today that I think will interest you. Ice Mice." he said, and the door opened.

Johanna let out a gasp of surprise. Not at the staircase, or the password, or the office, no—but at the box that was sitting to the side of the second step.

"Is that… what I think it is, Meneer?" she asked, almost whispering. He nodded, and she walked up to it fearfully.

"But… but I thought Oupa was going to flog it…" she said, and Dumbledore gave her a slightly puzzled look.

"It's in perfect condition, I assure—"

"No, Meneer, sell. Flog's just the slang for it… I'm still getting used to talking book English, Mene—sir." she said, never taking her eyes off of the package.

"Ah. Did you know my brother lived in South Africa for a while?"

"No. " she didn't ask where. It didn't matter.

"I assume you would like to take this with you?" he said, and she picked it up gingerly.

"Thank you, _Meneer_." she said, smiling at him for the first time since she arrived at Hogwarts, and he smiled back.

"Tomorrow's Market day, Johanna. I believe, if you hurry a little, you may have quite a while to play after the work is done." he said, his eyes twinkling a little, and she nodded, running off back to her room.

She slammed the door behind her and climbed up on the bed, shoving the package of cigarettes off to the side and pushing her cat to the end of the bed, glaring at it slightly.

"I swear, China, if you so much as get a hair on this you will be sorry you ever did." she said to the sleeping ball of fur, which opened one eye, inspected the scene, and promptly closed it again.

Johanna removed the tape tentatively, opening the box and smiling at its contents.

There, nestled among three days worth of cornmeal and a few packages of biltong was her most precious possession.

Her violin. It had been a one of a kind instrument crafted by one of the Masters specifically for her—her grandmother had gone all over Africa to find someone to make it for her.

It looked exactly the same as it had 7 months ago when she left it—it was just as shiny, the spruce and maple wood gleaming in the soft glow of the fireplace.

She fell asleep five minutes later—with the box still under her arm.  


* * *

Glossary (All of this is South African slang, Afrikaans, or Zulu)

_Blery_- bloody, as in "Bloody hell!"

_Mzansi_- South Africa

_maas_- a sour thick milk drink

_Meneer_- another word for Sir or Mister.

_Oupa_- Grandpa

_Flog_- Sell ( I know, odd isn't it?)

_China_- even though that's the cat's name, china also means best friend

_biltong_- It's like jerky, but with whatever meat available- which actually occasionally can include Ostrich.


	2. Of Rice Milk and Endives

Johanna loved Market Days; they were one of the few things that kept her sane in the bleak, dreary Scottish world she had been thrust into.

Twice a month, on the thirteenth and twenty-fifth, Hogsmeade had their outdoor farmer's market- and it was one of Johanna's responsibilities to go- while of course, none of the farmers would have plentiful enough amounts to feed the growing student population at Hogwarts, it did let her know what certain good vegetables looked like (You don't see a lot of hydroponic tomatoes grown in magic spring water in South Africa), as well as what was in season. That way, she knew wht to look for when going to the larger dealers for produce. It was a place that Johanna could use the bartering skills that had been so necessary in Botswana, and even more so in Johannesburg, where they were all too happy to rip off an unsuspecting tourist_._

_"_Johanna! Here to buy a few more walnuts, then?"

She smiled at the ruddy, jovial man smiling in behind the table in front of her.

"Fraid not, Leonard- got anymore of that lovely endive I was eyeing last week?" Johanna said, peering in anticipation at the vegetables in front of her. He grinned, pulling out a bag of light green, curly leaves.

"I figured you'd be back for it, so I saved you a bag. That'll be ten sickles, if you don't mind," he said cheerfully, and she mock glared.

"I'll give you five."

"Five? Are you daft, child? That's not enough to buy a square inch of dirt!"

"Seven, then?"

"Eight."

"Done," she said, dropping the money into his hand and taking the bag.

"You'll be my undoing, girl," he said, shaking his head as he placed the coins in his strongbox. She shrugged lightly.

"Thank you Leonard. I'll see you next Day then, eh?" Johanna said, placing the endive into the burlap bag she had bought last Day and waving to the peddler as she walked away, chewing on an apple.

Perhaps today might be decent enough.

Johanna surveyed the various ingredients spread on the counter, tapping her chin appraisingly.

While house elves have great memories, are brilliant cooks, excellent cleaners, and lovely with children, they have one major fault.

For some reason or another, it is almost physically impossible for them to create a new dish. House elf experts have studies this strange fact for years, and of yet, their only explanation has been that they operate by the "If it isn't broken, why bother to fix it" way of thinking, and as of yet, have been unable to make any major progress in this area. For years, the job had been rotated among the teachers (a task all but Dumbledore had apparently hated), but now that Johanna was there and needed to stay busy, the duty fell to her, a fact which made the staff at Hogwarts slightly less inclined to think that Dumbledore had finally zoomed off of his rocker.

She measured out a few cups of the mealie that had come with her violin and filled a pot with water, mixing the two on the stove. She grabbed a few things from the cold-box along with the aforementioned endive and chopped quickly, throwing this here and that there. She fell into the rhythm of work semi-happily, even venturing a whistle.

"Ello' Johanna!" two voices said in unison from behind her, and she jumped, almost knocking over a bottle of walnut oil in the process.

"Sit." she said sternly, smiling inwardly as she heard two simultaneous thumps.

"Commanding, eh? I like that in a woman."

"Fred." she said casually, placing a few leaves on a plate and sprinkling some walnuts on them. "If you make any more comments about what you do or do not like in a woman, I will have China here castrate you." she said lightly, and China meowed in assent from the floor.

"Eat." she said, tossing a piece of cheese to China and placing two plates of salad in front of the grinning twins.

Fred and George Weasley were one of a handful of students who knew she existed- and the only ones who visited her regularly. They were often the brightest part of her day, with their sunny demeanor and glaring red hair.

They poked at the salad warily, and she rolled her eyes.

"What's in this?"

"Endive, Goat Cheese, some walnuts-"

"Goat's make cheese?"

"_Ja_, but the BaaBaa Union for Overworked Mammals specifies they can't work for more than two hours a day." she said with a chuckle, and they gave her a bemused look.

"Get it? Because goats don't _make_- it was a joke, I was joking, ok? Will you just eat?" she said irritably, and they quickly complied.

"It tastes _good!_" George exclaimed, surprised, and Fred grunted in assent, his mouth to full to talk.

"There. Was that so hard?" she said, tossing a towel over her shoulder and grinning impishly. Fred finished the bite in his mouth and waggled his eyebrows.

"No, but I--"

"Don't. Even." she glared.

"What are you two doing here, anyway? I'm sure you have better things to do than come here."

"And miss hearing your lovely aristocratic voice? Never." George said with a grin.

"Oh, Shut up." she said laughingly. They always reminded her of her neighbors in Joburg, JP and Botha. While they weren't brothers in blood, they were brothers in spirit, and more than once you could hear the sirens of the local _boerel _on their way to drop the boys off from wherever they were causing mischief. While they had been a bit of a nuisance to Johanna, always hiding behind things and dropping water balloons and such, she had found that they had taught her that someone could always be there to surprise you- it was a lesson that had kept her alive when they went through Sierra Leone, where people were sometimes too hungry to think straight, and where the white man was still the enemy.

"But really... what happened?"

"It was Snape!"

"He hates us."

"Although, Fred, if we're being honest, we did make Flint's tongue swell up."

"You've got a point there, George."

"Yes, I know, it's rather impressive, isn't it?"

Johanna froze, wooden spoon halfway to her mouth.

"_Snape _sent you here?" she said, putting the spoon back in the pot and attempting indifference. Luckily, they seemed too caught up in their own selves to notice the smile slip off her face momentarily.

"Yeah. Right greasy git, he is, sending us here."

"Not that we don't love seeing your pretty face." Fred said quickly, trying to correct his brother's slip.

"I could look at it all day, really."

"And night too!"

"Anyway, here we are, at your service."

"Yes, we are the Weasley Twins, cleaners and cooks extraordinaire!"

She smiled at them, hoping she didn't look as angry as she was inside. How _dare _he think he knew what was best for her! Why, as soon as work was over, she'd be giving him a good couple of kicks worthy of a _skop, skiet en donner. _Preferably one that ended in a violent death from falling off of a very high building.

"Johanna? Are you all right?" A voice cut into her thoughts, and she gave them a smile.

"You can start and finish, actually, by passing me that bottle of white stuff." she said, stirring the cornmeal porridge on the stove. George gave her the bottle warily, and she smiled, taking a large swig herself before pouring a little into the pot. She winced slighty as it went down.

"What's that?" George asked, and she patted the bottle fondly, screwing the lid back on.

"The milk off of rice. My mother always said that it cured _anything_." She smiled. "Even a broken heart."

The twins gave each other a look.

"Even a swollen tongue?"

She laughed. "Ja, you _Mompies_, even a swollen tongue. A few drops of this." she said, pulling out another red-capped bottle "and he'll be back to his _moffie_ self in no time." she handed the bottle to Fred.

"Bring it right back when you're done- that's potent stuff, and a highly secret formula-you lose that, and you'll be losing your balls, _bru_."

Fred and George gave her another look.

"You said this'll cure _anything_?"

"_Ja_, anything and everything. Why?"

"Do you know Professor Umbridge?"

Johanna's fists clenched as she saw the thatched huts of villages burning to ash. She heard the screams of the burned and the mourning wails of those left behind, She saw her mother, her lovely, beautiful, sweet mother be reduced to a gaunt, smiling ghost, always hoping even in death.

She saw the seal- the cursed, bastardly Ministry seal that had destroyed homes and ruined lives.

"_Ja_." she said. "I've heard of her."

* * *

GLOSSARY

_Ja_- Yes

_boerel- _police

_skop, skiet en donner- _A violent action movie

_Mompie- _Retard

_Moffie- _homosexual, derogatory term

_bru_- short for _boetie, _or brother, It's basically "dude".


	3. Of Walruses and Blank Nameplates

Johanna surveyed the empty stone corridor cheerfully, lighting a cigarette. She blew out the smoke and sighed rather contently.

She had just finished telling off Professor Snape for meddling in affairs that weren't his business, and honestly, she felt he had taken all of her instructions to heart. Well, perhaps not to heart- but at least he hadn't completely ignored her, like last time she had attempted to make him feel her wrath.

"Hey! Put it out this instant, young lady! You're too young to be using one of those! " a self-important portrait with a rather annoying American accent to her left said. She took the cigarette out of her mouth, surveying the man.

"That's nice," she said apathetically, taking another drag and puffing in the direction of his frame, giving a small smile as she heard coughs.

"Smoking...ugh... is _not_ permitted..._och_... at Hogwarts!" he said before dissolving in a fit of coughs.

"Oh really," she said, "Well, you have all of my permission to go and tell your precious Headmaster Dumbledore that I am breaking the rules and must be stopped at once. Now, please just leave me alone," she said, completely ignoring his outrage and walking forward, smiling a little as she heard an indignant huff from beside her.

The little old man was trying to keep up with her, but she was no match. He Hmphed again and stalked away through a picture of sleeping walruses, muttering something about insolent youngsters.

She heard footsteps and froze, putting the cigarette out with her thumb. She bit down on her lip, trying to keep from gasping at the sting.

"Hello? Is anyone there? _Lumos_!" she heard a voice from the end of the hall say, and the hall lit up, stopping less than a meter in front of her. She crept as silently as she could away from the light and towards the tapestry that hid the house-elf corridor network, but it was too late.

"Anyone out there? It's after curfew, you know," he said cautiously, moving closer, and she froze again, silently weighing her options.

She could stay unmoving and hope whoever the person was would mind their own business (which was not very likely); or she could do what she usually did and run as fast and as far away as possible.

She chose the latter.

"Oi! You there! Where you going!" the male voice yelled, and she picked up the pace a little.

One of the biggest rules Dumbledore had given her was to never, ever, EVER allow people to see her well enough to identify her- of course, if they came into the kitchen, like the Weasley Twins had, well, there was nothing to be done about that; what, was she supposed to not do her work for fear of getting found?

But if this self-important student, whoever he was, did end up catching up to her (which again, was not very likely), and telling anyone about it (as he was bound to do), then Dumbledore would certainly be furious. She had seen the wrath of the Headmaster only once before, and would be perfectly content never to see it again for as long as she lived.

For such a dotty old man, his voice could carry like no one's business.

She slowed after a few minutes, confident she'd lost him. Catching her breath, she looked around, puzzled.

She didn't remember seeing this part of the castle before- and it wasn't in the map that Dumbledore had given her to post in her room... and that map showed _everything_-- every bathroom toilet, every dresser table and trunk, the placement of every bed, and she knew it was accurate; she had seen it correct itself when Hagrid had come back, moving the bed a centimeter to the left and pushing the table away to the corner of the room.

"Where am I?" Johanna wondered aloud. She heard a small meow and jumped, looking around wildly. She sighed in relief when she spotted her cat on a previously unseen ledge above her.

"China? What are you... Oof!" she said, getting hit in the face with a rough, heavy bag.

"China?" she said, untangling herself from what she recognized as the bag that she always used when she ran away.

"China, why in the blery world do you have this? Never mind how you found me... _or _how you packed it and got it down here, now that I think about it..." she floated off, and China meowed again, snapping Johanna back to alertness.

"But really. China? China love, we aren't going anywhere."

And then the ground beneath her feet disappeared and everything went black.

* * *

Hermione strolled through the corridor quietly, twirling her lit wand between her fingers. She heard footsteps and froze, slowly righting her wand and pointing the light towards the direction she thought the noise was coming from.

"Lumos Maximus!" she said cautiously, and the tip of her wand glowed even brighter. She saw the person racing down the corridor and her eyes widened.

"Ron... Ron? What on earth is going on? What happened?" Hermione asked, and Ron stopped, coming to a screeching, almost cartoon-like halt. He placed his hands on his knees and bent over, breathing heavily.

"Can't...talk...now," he said in between breaths. "Girl... out... after curfew," he said, catching his breath a little, and Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Ron, as... pleased as I am to see you taking your duties seriously, must you tear down the halls like this?" she asked, shaking her head a bit. He blushed slightly, but his face sobered quickly.

"Hermione," he said, all traces of his earlier windedness gone as he stared straight into her eyes. "It wasn't a student."

Hermione stood there and gave him a blank stare before her eyes widened again.

"Ron... the map! The map, Ron, the map!" she said excitedly, taking his hand and racing to the common room.

"I wonder if she's thought of using the map?" he muttered sarcastically under his breath as Hermione unceremoniously dragged him up three flights of stairs and through the portrait hole.

They got to the common room and found Harry already awake, staring at the fire intensely from his haphazard perch on the edge of the couch.

"Harry... why are you up?" Hermione asked, stopping momentarily, and Harry gave a sigh as he glanced at the flames.

"Nothing."

"Do you by any chance happen to have the map with you?" she asked quickly, and he nodded.

"It's right here, actually. _I solemnly swear I am up to no good," _he said, and Ron went to his side, attempting to get a good look at the map.

"She should be by the dungeon stairway, a bit to the left, maybe... probably still run--" Ron's line of sight was unexpectedly cut off by Harry's head nearly jamming his chin into Ron's cheekbone.

"Harry? Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked concernedly.

Harry remained silent, clutching the map in almost disbelief. The three stood frozen, neither Ron nor Hermione wishing to upset Harry further (although it was quite obvious Ron was itching to see what had made Harry so freaked out).

"Harry?" Hermione asked gently."Who is she?"

There was another moment of silence before Harry raised his green eyes from the parchment.

"That's just it," he said, holding out the map, his hand trembling slightly."It doesn't know."

"WHAT?" his two friends cried out in unison, Ron snatching the map from Harry in disbelief.

Sure enough, there was a dot moving quickly away from the place Ron had specified-- and the nameplate was blank.

Suddenly, the dot disappeared.

"That... That's not _possible_!" Hermione finally managed to stutter out, but Harry was already at the portrait hole, running as fast as he could with Ron close on his heels.

Hermione sighed, looking at the uncleared map left hastily on the armchair.

"Oh, _honestly_, you two. _Mischief managed,_" she said irritably, pocketing the precious parchment and running after the two boys.

She had just caught up to them when the ground dropped away from beneath them.


	4. Of Guns and Grey Dust

The pain ripped through Johanna like a bullet from a fourty-four. She sucked in sharply and bit her lip to keep from crying out and alerting anyone to her presence.

"Shit," she said, opening her eyes blearily to stare into the darkness. She tried to get up, and succeeded (although not without pain), taking in deep, ragged breaths. She had felt worse, absolutely, but at least she had known what had hit her.

She took a moment to survey herself inwardly. The back of her head felt sticky... definitely a broken rib, maybe two; but her legs seemed to be relatively free from injury despite her fall.

Johanna felt around for her pack, wincing when she heard her shoulder make a cracking noise.

Apparently she had missed that.

She found the pack just to the left of her and pulled out a jar of thin white paste, making sure to keep the rest of her body perfectly still. She spread it onto her bruised stomach and her shoulder, making sure that she stayed unmoving in the proper position. She smiled as she felt herself mend.

Standing up shakily, she touched the back of her head lightly, massaging the leftover paste on her fingers into her scalp.

"There," she said, closing the jar and placing it back into the backpack. She looked around for anything, anything at all-- a light, a face, a piece of furniture, _anything _that would tell her where she was-- but she found nothing.

"China? China? _Chiiinaaaa_?"

Her only response was dead silence.

"Damn cat," she muttered, disgruntled, as she swung the backpack onto her now-healed shoulder, sighing.

"Well, might as well go forward," Johanna said, walking blindly into the darkness.

Suddenly, she heard a bang coming from her left; she instinctively jumped up, weapon in hand.

But there was nothing.

She paused for a moment before deciding to go towards the noise.

If she was going to die, she might as well know where she would be meeting her end-- and perhaps the noise would know.

* * *

"Harry? Harry! You awake?" Harry opened his eyes to find himself staring right into the face of his best friend.

"I am now--" he said, but was interrupted by a sudden tidal wave of pain that radiated through his body in shockwaves. He screamed in agony and Ron backed up slightly, unnerved; Hermione rushed to her friend's side.

"Aww, look, how _cute_. The little _moffie _and his _gat_-wiping friends," a mocking voice said from the darkness, and the two who weren't in excruciating pain jumped up in a mixture of fright and anger.

"Who's there?" Hermione asked clearly, pulling out her wand warily with a quick _"Lumos,"_ and the voice laughed.

"Well, I think I should be asking _you_ that question first. After all, I did fall into this hellhole before you did." A set of hands pushed through the darkness out of nowhere, holding a gun pointed directly at Hermione's forehead. Ron jumped up, but Hermione stayed him with a palm.

"Now, how about you state your name, purpose, and one good reason why I shouldn't blow your brains out." The set of hands were followed by the young girl that they belonged to, and Hermione gave an involuntary gasp.

She was a mildly frightening sight. Her bright, yellow blonde hair slightly matted with dried blood, and the clothes that hung from her much-too-skinny body were coated with the grey dust that the ground seemed to be covered with.

What unnerved Harry the most, though, were her eyes. They were so detached, so cold. They reminded Harry of the hollow, cynical eyes that bored into him every single potions class, and he shuddered. There was a long, drawn-out silence, and the gun moved closer to Hermione's head. Hermione gave out a little shriek and Ron quickly stepped up.

"I'm... I'm R-ron. Ron W-weasley. We fe-fell in here," he finally sputtered out, and the girl smiled, her eyes visibly softening. Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding; the pain came back in full force, and he bit his lip hard. The girl turned her eyes onto him.

"Right answer," she said, pocketing the deadly hunk of metal into a special sling attached to her hip (Harry remembered seeing something like it on one of Dudley's favorite American programmes... he thought it was called a holster). She never took her eyes off of Harry, off the blood that he felt seeping into his T-shirt.

"Johanna, at your service," she said, making to go towards Harry. Hermione backed up, arms out to protect the boys behind her, and Johanna rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please-- I'm not going to steal either of your little boyfriends." Hermione looked affronted and about to speak, but Johanna had already diverted her gaze to Harry's other best friend.

"You're a Weasley, aren't you?" she said, and Ron snapped out of his stupor.

"How do you know my brothers?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes fiercely, and she narrowed hers right back.

"That is absolutely none of your business, _bru_. Now would you let me _through_, Mother Hen?" she asked a still skeptical Hermione, who continued to cover Harry (of course, Harry was still in extreme pain and only vaguely aware of the various happenings around him). Johanna stomped her foot exasperatedly.

"_Ag_, look," she pulled out the gun again, pushing the cylinder out to one side to show where the bullets should have been nestled inside each hole.

They were empty.

"See? It isn't loaded-- the old _rooinek_'d have my hide if I killed one of his little pets. Besides, guns don't work at Hogwarts; see?" Johanna loaded the gun with a single bullet seemingly procured from nowhere and fired into the darkness.

She dropped the smoking firearm, staring at it with slightly shaking hands. She tilted her head to one side, seemingly puzzled

"I lied. I guess they do work down here," she said, picking it up warily and checking it before placing it back into the holster. Hermione looked even more frightened now; however, she held her ground and Johanna got right into her face, looking rather angry.

"_Eish!_ Look_,_ lady, your little black-haired china's in big trouble-- he's got a serious cut on his left side and his ankle is looking pretty nasty; and he's going to feel a hell of a lot worse if you don't blery let me help him!" she said fiercely. Hermione paled a bit and finally sat down (albeit very, very reluctantly).

"There. Now was that so hard?" Johanna said, kneeling next to Harry and rummaging around in her pack. She pulled out a yellow jar with a smile.

"Now, stay perfectly still, all right? You might feel a little tingling, but trust me, that's completely normal. The pain should go away in a couple of minutes, tops, depending on how bad it is-- but don't move until I tell you, all right?" she said sternly, and Harry managed a nod.

She spread the contents of the jar (which appeared to be a milky white paste that felt deliciously cool to Harry) onto Harry's torso before checking his arms and legs.

"What is that stu-- AGHHHH!" Harry screamed, and Johanna nodded.

"Ja. Definitely a sprained ankle." Johanna paused a moment, as if in thought. "Mother hen, could you please look through my pack and grab the blue jar? Open it, would you?" Johanna directed the witch, never taking her hands off of Harry's ankle.

"Hermione. Her.. ach... name's Hermione," he said in between winces. Johanna simply nodded to Hermione, taking the blue jar.

"Yes, yes, we can exchange pleasantries once your ankle heals, ja?" she said, spreading the thicker paste onto Harry's ankle. Harry felt the blissfully cool liquid ooze down his ankle and smiled in thanks. Johanna wiped her hands and closed the jar, looking rather pleased with herself, and turned her attentions to the others.

"You two are all right, then?" she asked, and they both nodded in the affirmative. "Ok then. Let's just wait a bit until he heals then," she said, pulling a cigarette out from the pocket of her oversized flannel shirt and lighting it happily, tossing the lighter into the air.

"Sorry, here-- I'll blow the smoke away from you," Johanna said, coughing a bit.

"You're... you're _smoking!_"

"_Ja._"

"In Hogwarts."

"Yes, Mother Hen, I'm aware of that."

"But cigarettes aren't _allowed_ in Hogwarts!" Hermione said, looking aghast at the girl in front of them.

"Really."

"Yes. I read about it in Hogwarts; A--"

"Ja, so did I. But why would I care what that stodgy old book says?" Johanna asked, blowing the smoke out into the air. Hermione looked about ready to faint (which was entirely plausible: Johanna had just insulted her bible) before Harry unwittingly intervened.

"The pain's gone!"

She gave him a sideways look and took another drag.

"Ja. I told you it would, didn't I?" she said with a satisfied smirk. She rubbed the tip of the cigarette against the cold stone floor, pocketing the stub and dusting her hands off. She turned to Harry, surveying him a little more closely, before standing up quickly.

"It looks all right, kid. You can pull down your shirt now-- there's not much to look at," she said shortly, her cheeks turning just a little red.

Harry was confused by her sudden change in attitude. First she was going to shoot them, then she helped him, and now she was being rude?

She looked almost... embarrassed. Like she hadn't meant to show herself to them. To be so unguarded.

Harry probably wouldn't have recognized it if he hadn't felt the same way; but it was blatantly obvious, now that he thought about it.

She wrenched the pack from the ground, slinging it across her shoulder. Her face hardened as she stared at three, slightly-dazed students on the ground in front of her.

"Well, are you coming?" she asked tersely, and Ron once again narrowed his eyes at her.

"And why should we trust you?" He gave her a suspicious look, and she sighed.

"Look, the way I see it, we need each other. I need your fancy magic sticks there and you need my night-vision, my gun, and this lovely jar of salve." She shook the pack lightly, and Ron gave a mildly undignified snort of disbelief.

"Why would you need our wands? Why can't you use your own?" he asked, and she gave him a pointed stare. His jaw dropped in realization.

"Does that mean you can't do _magic_?" he almost whispered, and she gave him another glare.

"Wow. You really, really must want to die." She stared off into space for a moment. "But to answer your question, no I can't."

Harry was the first to stand up. She _had _healed him, after all. Hermione gave him a small look before following his lead, with Ron close behind.

They all had their reasons for staying as well. Hermione's maternal instinct wouldn't allow her to leave the girl by herself, Ron wanted to make sure he knew where that gun was pointed at all times, and Harry?

Well, he just wanted to know why the hell she didn't show up on the bloody map!

* * *

_Glossary_

_moffie- _male homosexual; wimp, crybaby

_gat- _ass, rear-end, bum (Afrikaans for 'hole') - not exactly a nice word

_bru-_ short for brother, kind of like dude

_rooinek_- literally meaning "red-neck", it's a derogatory term for an Englishman; complete opposite of American meaning for redneck

_eish- _an expression of frustration or displeasure; like "Jeez!" or "Hell!"

_china_- best friend

_blery_- same as bloody

_Ja_- Yes


	5. Of Mouseholes and NotMaps

A/N: If you guys could review, that would be kind of super. So yeah, that's pretty much it.

Disclaimer: Yeah, only Jo, China, and the Labyrinth are mine.

* * *

It had been asleep for years, only opening its proverbial eye every once in a while.

It had seen more moons, more centuries, more horrors than anyone could ever imagine, and felt more pain than anyone would ever think was humanly possible; and that was only fitting, for though it had once been something that could be called human, it had been distorted and wrought into something far more dangerous. Years alone with nothing but itself to keep it company had allowed it to find its own flaws, its own weaknesses and cover them with an impressive array of lethal traps and blood-hungry creatures that would be, for all practical purposes, impossible to get through.

And if anyone _did _get through them, they'd be too tired to do anything else but fall asleep-- and they really _wouldn't _want to do that.

It smiled as it felt the patter of feet vibrating from the outer tunnel. It had been so long since it had felt the warmth of flesh... perhaps it was time for it to rise up out of the darkness and take those it needed in order to survive. And why not now, at the beginning? They were so close, so lovely, so _easy..._

No! Better to wait. Enjoy the process as much as the result; After all, if it could love anything... when it did love anything, it was the process.

It grinned, a wicked grin that would have sent even the Dark Lord shivering back to his mousehole.

Yes. _Much_ better to wait.

* * *

Johanna was absolutely, positively _furious _with herself. She couldn't _believe _she had just done that.

Inviting them along with her went against every moral and ideal she had ever had.

What happened to, "Never trust anyone but yourself," and "Three can keep a secret if the other two are dead?"

That was top-notch logic right there, and her stupid, stupid, _stupid_ mouth had just decided to go right ahead and refute it.

Good job, mouth. Really _lekker_ idea.

Al_though..._ now that Johanna thought about it, her father, her mother, and herself had kept a very large secret, along with various other members of what Johanna understood to be a rather large society. Then again, to her knowledge, she was the only remaining member.

Then _again, _if this place kept to the horrible feeling it gave her, none of them would be living for much longer.

And now her brain was just going around in blery circles, which wasn't doing anybody any good.

Johanna sighed. This place gave her the _skriks_.

"Where are we?" Ron asked, and Johanna shook herself, shrugging.

"I'm not really sure. Light, please," she said, and one of their wands was placed into her hand.

Johanna pointed the light in front of her before sweeping it all around her as well as above her head, her pale eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary, any outstanding marker that could give them a clue as to their whereabouts.

Nothing.

"Can't tell-- it all looks the same--scary as hell. Besides, how would we know anyway? It isn't like we've got something useful, like a blery map," she said, sighing as she handed the wand back to the owner, who appeared to be Ron.

Harry and Hermione both froze.

"THE MAP!" Harry roared, panicking; at the same time, Hermione dug through her robes, which Johanna eyed enviously, as they looked to be rather warm compared to the light trousers and flannel shirt that she was currently sporting.

"I have the map!" she said, handing a worn piece of parchment to Harry, and he clutched it to his chest, looking for all the world as if he were going to faint.

"You two dunces left it in the Common room when you ran down and got us into this mess," Hermione said casually, and Johanna attempted to peer at the paper.

"A map? That's _befok_, china-- hopefully it'll tell us how to get out of this place. Let's have a whack at it then, eh?" she said, grabbing it out of Harry's hands before he had a chance to do anything.

"GIVE IT BACK!" Harry yelled with surprising intensity, and Johanna raised an eyebrow.

"Just wait one blery second, _chommie_, before you blow a hole through your head," Harry fell silent, looking almost curious as Johanna stared at the paper and words began to rise up, the spidery black ink spreading out like an infectious disease against the aged fibres.

It wasn't a map.

She threw the paper at Harry along with a shaking glare, rubbing her arms violently. She hated her flaws, hated her weaknesses, hated her father for making her so disadvantaged.

Harry grabbed the so-called map and scanned it, reading the words on it aloud.

"Mr. Moony would like to wish the young lady prior a pleasant day, and would advise her to see the Headmaster immediately for registration.

Mr. Prongs would also like to know who the hell you are.

Mr. Padfoot is inclined to agree with Mr. Prongs, and would like to know how you are in Hogwarts.

Mr. Wormtail is inclined to agree with the aforementioned Messrs, and would like to ask the Miss if she is absolutely certain that she is in fact, alive.

Mr. Prongs would like to add in that that is quite possibly the stupidest thing he'd ever--"

"Seem's like a pretty shit map to me, _boetie_," Johanna said boredly. She was almost sixteen; she really didn't need to be read to. Well, actually, yes, she did, but it wasn't her fault her father hated _rooineks_.

"Why doesn't the map know who you are?" Ron asked, and Johanna tilted her head at him, not sure whether to kill him for being so damned annoying or like him for his lay-it-all-out honesty.

But that decision could wait for another time--she had more pressing matters. She could tell them and risked having them know too much, too soon; but then again, they _were _all going to die, right?

No. Better to just say she didn't know-- after all, she didn't. Not for sure. And what was with the strange look that Hermione was giving her?

"Is there some pressing reason that you're looking at me_ dik tril_?" Johanna asked, narrowing her eyes at the young witch, who gave her an expression alarmingly close to a smirk.

"You can't read English, can you?" Hermione said triumphantly, and Johanna paled slightly.

"What makes you say that?"

"Please. You had no clue what was on the map when you threw it at Harry-- that's why you threw it at him, I'll bet. You hate not being in control," Hermione said coolly, and Johanna set her jaw.

"All right, _rooinek, s_o what if I can't read your blery language. Who gives a fuck? All of you fuckin' rooineks are a waste of fuckin' space, you are, thinking you're fuckin' _dik tril _when you're nothing but a bunch of stupid little _bloed poes _who would like nothing better than to burn my country to the ground and laugh as you watch us die, hear our screams, just like Dad said. Your mission in life is to hunt down the Wizerkaners and kill us all, just like you all fucking killed my father! You three are lucky I didn't fucking kill you on _sight_!" Johanna said angrily, barely able to keep herself from shooting the shocked looking young teen in front of her. There was a long, drawn out silence.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Johanna, I didn't know. I... I never would have guessed," Hermione said in a small voice.

"Ja," Johanna replied, her voice shaky. "I know."

* * *

_Glossary_

_lekker- _awesome

_skriks- _frights

_befok- _really good, cool, great

_chommie- _buddy, man, friend, chum

_boetie- _brother. Polite form of _bru _(Remember that one?)

_rooinek- _derogatory term for an Englishman; used here in the worst sense, meaning one who cares for nothing but himself.

_dik tril- _kind of like the American English phrase "all that" or, "You think you're the man,"

_bloed poes- _Useless, dirty things.


	6. Of Spiders and Tears

A/N: Review please, lovelies, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own absoloodly nothing. Cept for Jo and Co. and the Labyrinth

* * *

The group had remained silent for the past four hours since Johanna's outburst, no one knowing what to say. After all-- what was there to say to that sort of thing?

Harry understood now; her embarrassment at letting them know too much about herself, her wariness of the overly observant Hermione, the closed, clipped, tough way she spoke, everything. For Johanna, they were the enemy. Quite honestly, Harry was dying to know why the girl was even _at _Hogwarts, but now didn't really seem like the best time to ask.

There was a loud rumble, and the ground below them shook a little, freezing Harry in mid-step.

"What... what was that?" Ron asked, a shaking Hermione close by. Harry made to walk towards them, but Johanna placed up a firm, forceful hand.

"No." The word was strong. "Stay where you are. I think it's looking for our footsteps," she said quietly, shaking her short blonde hair out of her eyes, the bright yellow colour still vibrant under the dulling grey dust that now coated everyone.

There was another rumble, and Johanna swore under her breath; Harry was once again surprised at the explosion of anger and resentment from such a slight-looking figure. Whatever she had been doing before hadn't done much for the girl's looks. She was skinny, yes, but it was the kind of skinny that came from not eating for days, from running and running and not being sure you wanted to come back.

Harry felt an unnatural connection to Johanna, more than he had felt with anyone in a long time. She was tired and lost and sad, and everyone was against her. Another rumble shook Harry out of his reverie, and Johanna shook her head.

"This isn't good, is it?" a pale Ron said hopelessly, gulping, and Johanna's mouth drew into a grim line.

"No. I'm sure it knows where we are now-- whatever it is. Not that we could truly outrun it or anything though-- so I suppose it's good to know what you're up against," she said, rubbing her temples.

"Why don't we get some sleep here? We're... we're all tired, and we don't really know how long we were knocked out for," Hermione said tentatively (which, Harry had to admit, was a very brave move on her part)—but Johanna simply nodded in agreement.

"Umm... Hermione, what are we going to sleep _on_? We don't have one of those fancy packs like Johanna, and if you haven't noticed, this stone is bloody gross! Merlin knows what could be hiding in between the stones!" Ron said, looking askance at the cobblestone-like floor, and Harry attempted to keep a straight face as he thought about his best friend waking up next to a spider .

"You know, that may be the most intelligent thing you've said all day, Firehead. Unfortunately, you know _blou hond se kont_. Can't you people just magic some comfy beds for yourself or something, or are you _N.A.A.F.I_ wizards who can't do _kak_?" she said, looking annoyed, and Harry shook his head.

"I don't think so. There's some kind of rule against it, and we can't Accio anything this far down here, I don't think," he said hastily, cutting off Hermione before she could give Johanna some kind of lecture about the rules of magic and whatnot. His best friend had done enough damage for the day.

"_Ag, man_." Johanna rolled her eyes. "Here, blery _bloed poes_, here's some blankets. We'll stay up in shifts. I'll take the first one-- I suppose Scarface can go after me," Johanna said commandingly, and Harry dropped to the ground, taking the warm and somehow clean fabric that Johanna thrust at him.

When...

When did he get so...so...tired?

He yawned as he closed his eyes

Things would be better in the morning.

* * *

Johanna glanced at the three bodies around her wearily and shook her head. She turned back to the lightly crackling fire the Weasley boy had been kind enough to light before he started to snore like a blery rhino.

She watched the flames dance, sighing. How could fire be so mesmerizing, after all it had done to her people, her family, her home?

She felt the pressure swell up in her head, in the back of her nose, and she tightened up her face and squeezed her eyes shut, just like she always did, rummaging around in the folds of her oversized shirt for her lighter and the square, crinkled pack. She couldn't cry.

_She mustn't cry!_

No crying; not now, not ever, and _especially _not in front of these people. What if they found out, or worse; what if they _knew?_

Johanna was seized with a sudden bout of panic, but a quick and sudden slap of rational thinking along with a deep drag from a cigarette quickly cooled her down. Of course they didn't already know; if they did, she'd be crying her eyes out into some collecting machine and everyone she had left would be dead. But that wasn't to say that she shouldn't be careful around these people, even if they didn't look much older than she was.

Sure, Firehead was nice enough, and he was a Weasley (she didn't expect anything less from them, if his twin brothers were any standard), and the boy with the scar was obviously just like her-- lost, stuck in a world where everyone felt sorry for him but no one understood him, but that damn girl... she was dangerous. She was smart; one wrong step and the girl would know exactly who and what Johanna was, and BOOM! All that lovely cover work down the drain.

Johanna could remember the moment that her mother told her. Of course, it was veiled, and Johanna didn't realize what it was until much, _much _later... but it was the moment that her carefree, upper-class childhood ended and their life of running through the brush and hiding in the back of her father's bakkie began.

_----Seven years previous----_

Johanna sprinted through the tall grass, careful to watch for anything that might hurt her. She had been running for a while-- she was late for dinner, and her mother would be very worried.

Finally, after a few more sweaty minutes, Johanna sighted the peak of their white stucco house over the hilltop. She smiled in relief and sprinted the last hundred metres, grinning as she opened the door. She expected a relieved but annoyed mother, or perhaps a scolding cook; maybe even her beefy, angry father demanding to know her whereabouts.

What she hadn't been expecting were the swift kisses and sobs of her mother.

"_Ma? Wat is Verkeerde?"_ she asked in her usual, lilting Afrikaans, but her mother shook her head for English (as she was wont to do when she was upset-- Johanna's mother was an Englishwoman, born and bred-- apparently, her mother and her uncle were the only two good ones left in England, according to Johanna's father)

"What's wrong, Mama, what happened? I'm sorry I was late, I was playing at Liesl's house and I didn't see what time--" Johanna was cut off.

"Johanna, after I'm done, you must burn these clothes, do you understand? We must burn these clothes, and my clothes, and you and I must never cry again, ok bokkie? You need to be strong for your Mama and Papa and not cry, do you understand? You must never ever cry! If you cry, my darling, then they will find you. Now darling, we're going to be doing a lot of moving soon. Daddy's just doing research, so don't worry, but we won't be able to bring much with you. It'll be an adventure, just like when you were kleintjie!" The slender woman dried her eyes and slid up gracefully, stepping out of sight before Johanna could say another word.

---------------------------------

She had been too young then to know, too young to understand who she truly was; so her mother had given her an equally important reason to put a permanent stopper on her tear ducts. It wasn't until much, much later that she truly understood the ingenuity of her mother.

Her mother knew she would have been scared, so she said they were going on an adventure rather than escaping from those who would hunt them for what they could do.

But in the end, her mother had been right. Candace Roth had cried, and they had found her, and now Johanna was all alone.

She felt a sharp sting from her finger and she yelped, startled, dropping the forgotten stompie. The pristine whiteness had burned to charred ash and the embers had reached her fingers and burned them. She stared at the small, throbbing spots on her fingers and sighed, reaching for her pack, but she froze at the zipper.

No. The burns would stay as a reminder. Dwelling on the past would get her nowhere in a situation like this.

She sat back with a remorseful but steely sigh, staring back into the fire pensively.

So much destruction...

* * *

_Glossary_

_Blou hond se kont- _absolutely nothing

_N.A.A.F.I- _No Ambition And Fuck-all Interest—basically used to describe slackers or good-for- nothings, lazy or unknowledgeable people.

_Kak- _the equivalent of shit.

_Ag, man- _Kind of like, "Oh, man," but more in annoyance at the incompetence of people or things around.

_Bloed poes_- useless things (come on guys, we should definitely know this word by now)

Bakkie- pickup truck

Ma, Wat is Verkeerde? - Mom, what's wrong?

Bokkie- NOT to be confused with _bakkie_. Bokkie is like a term of endearment, like sweetie or darling.

Kleintjie- small, infantile, little

Stompie- not really an Afrikaans word, but it is SA slang for a cigarette, so for future reference a stompie is a cigarette, or more specifically, a cigarette butt.


	7. Of Missing Persons and HandWoven Hats

A/N: Now, I know some of you might think some people a little OOC here, but please, remember; not everyone is who you think they are at first glance. As always, review please, mah deas.

Disclaimer: How sad, how sad, Oh, woe is me, I own nothing but Jo and her family (and Laby).

* * *

Fred and George Weasley burst into the Hogwarts kitchen with their usual rowdiness, almost running into at least five of the tiny creatures on their way to the back.

"Johanna? Johanna? Oi, George, she isn't here!" Fred said, craning his head as if to see if there was a bright blonde head hiding behind the stacks of rapidly disappearing sudsy dishes.

A three-foot-tall stack of hand-woven hats came careening towards the twins, stopping abruptly in front of them. "Oh, Dobby has found brothers of Harry Potter's Wheezy, hasn't he? What can Dobby do to be of service, sirs?"

"Oh, hello Dobby. We were just wondering where Johanna was."

"You wouldn't happen to know where she is, would you?"

The house-elf looked at them suspiciously.

"Pardon Dobby for asking, sirs, but how is you's knowing about Miss Johanna? Professor Dumbledore told Dobby not to tell sirs anythings they don't already know, no sir, nothing at all--"

"We just have to return something we borrowed, that's all," Fred said quickly, jumping in with a grin downward.

"We can stay right here if you like," George continued, nodding, and the house-elf gave a little shake of his head.

"Oh well, you's _is_ Harry Potter's friends, so Dobby supposes it's all right," he said, giving a little bow before melding into the throng, the giant stack of knitted hats zooming in and out of the various corners of the kitchen, even disappearing for a moment. The stack suddenly came zooming back, with a worried-looking face under it.

"No one's seen Miss Johanna for the last two days, sirs. Dobby even checked her room, but she wasn't there. Perhaps Harry Potter's Wheezy's brothers should check with Professor Snape." The twins suppressed a chuckle as the house elf shuddered before the actual sentence sunk in.

"Professor Snape? Why should we check with him?" George asked curiously, but Dobby's face was closed off. Fred, sensing a possible disaster, quickly thanked the house-elf for his help and dragged his still sceptical brother out of the kitchens.

* * *

"So-- why Snape?"

"Hell if I know, mate, but you better bet I'm not going to him until I've exhausted every other bloody option," Fred said shortly, walking up the steps to the common room two at a time.

"What're you like?"

"What're _you _like? Johanna could have frozen to death or something in this bloody castle, no sense of direction and all that, and all you're doing is--what? What're you looking at me like that for?" Fred said accusingly, and George sped up, almost jogging to keep up with his brother, a goofy grin on his face.

"You fancy her, don't you?" George said smugly, and Fred sped up.

"Johanna and Fred, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-"

"I do not fancy her! You need to have your head examined, you great prat!"

"_Remember all you maidens, from the Isle of Dogs, before you find a prince, you must kiss a lot of frogs_,"

"Oh, shove off! Bloody git, you are. Doxy Eggs," Fred said, waiting for the portrait to open, his face colouring deeply, and George grinned even wider.

"I assume we're going up to grab the map from our lovely brother and Harry?" George said in a hushed voice, quieting down when he noticed the slightly crowded common room.

"Bingo, dear brother, Bingo," Fred said, a slight pink still staining his cheeks.

"And what if she's not on there Hell, I'd leave the castle too if I were allowed."

"Then we go where we have to, I guess," Fred said with a grimace, and they looked at each other, not willing to dirty their mouths by saying it out loud.

_Snape._

* * *

The door was already open when George touched the knob, and he pushed it open with ease.

"Oi, Ronniekins, dearest brother, you have something that we need..." he said in a sing-song voice, but the request fell on deaf ears.

Well, not _exactly _deaf ears.

"Oh, hullo Neville! Any chance you've seen the two dunderheads recently?" Fred asked cheerily, and the pudgy boy shook his head.

"I was about to ask you two the same question. Not that I think they're dunderheads, they're actually quite clever, they get better marks then me, I mean," he said, quickly, trying to correct his error, but George waved it off.

"No offense taken, old chap. Now, about my dear ol' brother..." he asked, rubbing his hands together, but Neville shook his head again.

"I haven't seen either of them since Ron left for rounds last night. They didn't even show up for classes today, Hermione either; shame really, we had double Herbology and Professor Sprout showed us this really neat Screechsnap plant that—""_Hermione _didn't show up for classes _either?" _both twins said in unison, and Neville nodded, suddenly looking rather scared. The two dashed out of the dorm room, practically knocking into each other as they dashed down the stairs and out of the common room.

The trip down to the dungeons was probably both the shortest and the longest Fred Weasley had ever run (and to be honest, there had been a lot of mad dashes to Potions for the both of them), and by the time they knocked on the irritable Potion Master's door, both of them were substantially out of breath.

The door flew open, and beady black eyes glared down at the gasping twins.

"What are the two of you doing disturbing my rest at this ungodly hour?" Snape said coldly, and Fred was the first to catch his breath.

"The house elves told us to come and see you, sir. It's Johanna. They said... they said they haven't seen her for two days," he said, still panting slightly, and if he hadn't known the Professor better, he could have sworn he saw fear in the man's eyes.

"Two days?"

"Yessir, two days."

"And Harry, Ron and Hermione haven't been seen either since last night."

Snape left the two alone in the hall way for a moment, and for a split second Fred feared that the door would slam on the two of them and they would be left to find the four all by themselves, but the professor quickly reappeared; a slim, brown-wrapped package at his side made a slight rustling noise as he strode past, making the twins practically jog to keep up.

"When did you realize she was gone?"

"Only a few minutes ago, sir. We went to go return something we had borrowed and she wasn't there, and the house elves couldn't find her..." George said quietly, and the professor sped up. They walked quickly, twisting and turning along a route that George, oddly enough, didn't think he'd ever seen before.

"_Sassafras Drops_," Snape said quickly, and the gargoyle leapt to the side and the door swung open, as if it sensed the urgency behind those two words.

"Professor Snape, Messrs. Weasley, how lovely to see all of you, I hope there's no—Severus, are you all right?" Dumbledore flicked his wand, and three of his signature armchairs appeared. The two boys sunk into the plush upholstery gratefully, but the professor stayed standing, unwrapping the package on the Headmaster's desk to reveal a rather plain-looking sheet of glass.

"Johanna's gone missing, sir, along with Potter, Granger, and the younger Weasley boy. I take it the Floo powder is still beside the fireplace?"

"Of course, Severus, where else would it be?"

The Potions Master grabbed a handful of the green powder and sprinkled it on top of the glass before saying very clearly, "Johanna Roth."

There was a long, agonizing silence that dragged on for what seemed like forever; and just when it seemed that there was going to be no answer, there was a small crackle from the glass, and the two boys' eyes grew big as the green powder vanished into the smooth surface.

"_Oom Jochem? Oom Jochem! Oom Jochem, is jy daar?" _The words were loud and clear, and Snape gripped the table, his knuckles turning white before he sank into the chair that Dumbledore had oh-so-conveniently zoomed closer to him.

"_Ja, Johanna, ek is presies hier. _I'm right here," he said, putting his head in his hands, and the two ginger-haired twins shifted uncomfortably, slightly shocked at this newfound talent of the cold-hearted Potions professor.

"Johanna, where are you? Are there any other people with you?" The elderly man butted in; but if Johanna was surprised, her voice certainly didn't show it.

"Ja, _Meneer_, there's three other's; a Weasley, a boy with an odd scar, and a girl. I'm not really sure where we are, _Meneer; _one minute Firehead's chasing me, the next minute China's dropping my blery daypack on my head, and before you know it we're in this nasty blery tunnel thing that gives me the skriks every time a draft comes through," Snape's head snapped up.

"_Johanna_, did you say you were in a tunnel?"

"_Ja, Oom Jochem_. Although I'm not really sure if it's a tunnel, because it seems to just keep going on and on and on... I feel like we're going in a loop somehow..."

The two teachers looked at each other, and for one whole, single, utterly and completely terrifying minute, Fred and George Weasley saw a look of total panic cross both teachers' eyes before they both spoke in unison.

"The Labyrinth."

* * *

_Glossary_

_Oom Jochem, is jy daar?-_ Uncle Jochem, are you there? (Jochem would be his name, just to eliminate confusion)

_Ja, Johanna, ek is presies hier_- Yes, Johanna, I'm here.

_Meneer- _sir

Note: The reason Snape's (or Oom Jochem, if you'd rather) Johanna is italicized is because of the difference in pronunciation—in Afrikaans, it's YO-anna rather than JO-anna.


	8. Of Biltong Bits and Fireside Meetings

Johanna closed the locket, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion before being startled by the loud snap that resounded through the room. She let her eyes rove over the three sleeping teens and sighed.

"Get up." The words hit the scarred boy almost as hard as the...whatever it was that had just hit him in the face, and he scrambled up, feeling along his glasses for any cracks, as he had kept them on during the night on her orders.

After all, whatever lived in the labyrinth was probably not going to sit there and politely wait until he put on his glasses before tearing his guts out.

Harry stared at it for a moment before realizing that it was a stick of dried meat, and he bit into it hungrily, chewing like a savage; Johanna almost slapped him.

She slapped her head instead.

"_Mamparra_, that's probably going to have to last a while, so if I were you, I wouldn't be doing that. Why don't you try tearing it into little tiny pieces and only eating 'em one at a time, _nê?_. A few every four hours or so should keep you from getting too hungry," she said, and he tore up the meat complacently. She turned to look at the two teens still strewn across the floor.

"I just talked to Dumbledore," she said off-handedly, and he almost choked.

"What? How? When? Why didn't you let me speak to him?"

"All three of you were out cold; I tried to wake you all up for your watch shifts, but it didn't work, and I didn't want to have to try it again after Firehead over there almost gave me a _moerse_ black eye. Besides you would have spent too much time talking to him. I just wanted to know if they knew where we were." She chose to ignore the rest of his questions-- there were too many of them.

"And?"

"And what?" Johanna suppressed a grin, flicking her lighter on and taking in a drag of the sweet smoke. Since, according to Dumbledore, they would have to be stuck with each other for a while, might as well pratice becoming mildly sociable now.

"And what did he say?"

"Ekse, nothing good. No way in, no way out 'cept the way we came, and they can't find that, either. Old bat said no one's been down here for a long, long, _long _time, bru." She shook her head, her good mood disappearing slightly as she flicked some ash onto the floor, the thought of being stuck down in this miserable wormhole for the rest of eternity dampening her spirits.

"So... then what do we do now?" Harry asked, looking almost as gloomy as her, and she shrugged.

"Explore, maybe, try and find our way around this _hoel_. Might as well since it doesn't seem like we'll be leaving anytime soon--"

"Who said that?" Hermione interjected, sitting up and dusting off her face. Johanna refrained from saying anything other than a short "Dumbledore." She wasn't in the mood to deal with the girl's endless, mindless questions too.

"When did you talk to him?"

Johanna set her jaw, already visibly annoyed, and Harry stepped in, sensing her mounting irritation.

"We talked to him earlier."

"And? What did he say?"

"It's not looking good. He said no one's been down here for years-- sounds like it's been closed longer than the Chamber-- no known entrance and no known exit."

"Well, why not try and get out the way we got in?" Hermione asked, but Johanna shook her head, drawing in deeply.

"They all ready checked-- they can't seem to find either hole we fell in from. They've sent every staff member searching-- and nothing. Looks like we're gonna be stuck here for a while," she said, and Ron gave a small groan as he woke up, moving his hands up to rub his eyes before realizing the thin film of grey dust. He amended his gesture, dusting the particles off of his face and opening his eyes cautiously.

Johanna stood up.

"Well, I say we go forward. Try to figure out where we are under this blery _pozzy_, eh?" Harry nodded, folding up his blanket and standing up beside her.

"But what about breakfast?" Ron asked blearily as Johanna walked away, and she paused, drawing something out of her pocket and tossing it at the hungry redhead.

"There. And don't eat it all at one time like your china there. Mother Hen?"

She held out a piece of the meat to Hermione, who accepted it with a wince, and Johanna gave a small, bitter laugh.

"I'm afraid this is all we have- you better learn to keep _swak_ off your face, eh?" she said, shaking her head at the girl, and after a quick shuffle with Harry`s wand, the motley quartet began into the labyrinth.

None of them were prepared for what was about to ensue.

* * *

"But I don't understand, we must call the Ministry, get them involved--"

"Ah, Minerva, are you still trusting the Ministry? Nothing we tell them is safe-- it would be simply another strike against me."

"But Amelia... or Arthur, surely some of them or their like minded peers could... could somehow--"

"I'm afraid not. Whatever they do is watched carefully, especially if it involves any type of research. We cannot give Dolores any chance to discredit me or the school, especially not right now. There are four students underneath this very floor as we speak-- one of whom has and may again change the world, and another, the last of some of the best people the wizarding world has ever known."

The Headmaster leaned back in his chair, staring sadly at the smooth, polished wood of his desk.

"I could not ever look Severus in the eye again, I'm afraid, were I to lose her. Now that her mother has passed, they are all each other has left, and our good Potions Master feels alone enough already."

"Forgive me for prying, Albus, but who is that girl exactly? The staff was never fully informed of her identity... I don't think I even know her name!"

"I'm afraid that must remain between Severus and I, Minerva-- at least, until the only snakes in Hogwarts are those of the animal kind..." he trailed off, staring back at his desk, and the aging Professor next to him sighed.

"I'm getting too old for this."

"Me too, Albus," She pursed her lips, staring into the fire. "Me too."

* * *

_Mamparra- _silly, idiot; sort of like the japanese _baka_

_ne?- _can be used either as a you know what I mean? or really? Here the former is used.

_moerse_- great, brilliant, really good, more than necessary

_hoel_- hole

_pozzy_- a place, especially somewhere one dislikes or is seedy

_swak_- expression of dislike or disgust


	9. Of Shimmering Plaques and Paradox Doors

A/N: This was a really hard chapter to get out... I would love if the few of you who read this just wrote a couple words, I'd like to know what you think. Thanks!-Ai

Disclaimer: I feel you, Johanna, I (didn't) steal you...

* * *

Flesh.

That's all it could smell, all it could taste, the deep pungent fragrance wafting through the air, calling to him. It was terribly intoxicating, deliciously heady after so many years of abstinence. It had stayed true to the promise wrought in blood, honoured the ancient agreement called forth at its creation; but now, with them this close, this fresh-- it could hold out no longer.

It would have to break the promise made so long ago-- there was no other way.

And so, for the first time in over six hundred years, it gave a giant groan, rumbling as it exhaled decades of pent-up grey dust and rodents.

A little brown door appeared and the center gate glinted; a great buzz crackled through every dirty dark stone.

The running of the Labyrinth had begun.

* * *

"That's fate, that is!"

"Oh, Ronald, all of that stuff's horse dung, and you know it!"

"Nah, you just don't like it cause you weren't good at it! Can't read a fortune from a book, can you?"

Johanna had only spent an hour walking with the students-- already she was regretting their decision. Firehead and Mother Hen were constantly bickering, placing her already pressured mind into a whole other level of discomfort-- and besides, the rumbling had started again, leaving her more agitated than ever. Another wave passed through, shaking the walls a bit more forcefully this time, and there was a moment of silence.

"Just keep walking," she said after a moment. "Whatever it is already knows we're here.... s'not blery likely we'll outrun it," she said said peevishly, but the two had all ready resumed their argument.

"No, that's not why, I simply didn't believe--"

"Bollocks, you were rubbish at it."

"Just a bit of--"

"Guys, would you mind for a few minutes? Thanks." Johanna blessed the scar-headed boy beside her; instant silence. He shrugged.

"I have to concentrate harder to keep the light going... it's almost like I have to work, to make an effort to keep the spell going." He stared at the wand she was holding. "It's odd." She shrugged in return, not really paying attention as she zeroed in on a gleaming, odd patch of darkness a ways ahead.

"Do you see that, Johanna?"

"That I do, Firehead," she said, mildly surprised by the use of her first name, and they slowed their pace immediately, creeping closer with caution. Suddenly, the wand went out, and after a few muttered incantations and choice words, was pulled gently out of her grasp.

"It isn't working," he said simply, and she pulled out her gun quickly, surprised at how well she could see despite the lack of illumination.

"All of you, get behind me. Check to the back of you for an ambush every so often, though I'm not expecting one," she said stiffly, walking cautiously towards the glittering section. As she got close, she realized that it was a giant ebony plaque; great shimmering words were scrawled across it in an elegant, yet odd script. They weren't in Afrikaans, and she could recognize English, so she could tell that it wasn't written in that, either. She looked at the words for a moment--somehow, as if someone had changed the plaque itself, she found that the words were clear (although they still weren't in any language she recognized).

She took a step closer, mesmerized by the sparkling letters; she looked up, wishing she had a light to help her see more clearly.

"Hermione, do you know what is?"

"No, I haven't the faintest... hang on, I think I saw some of the outside symbols in Ancient Runes, but that's Advanced stuff, I don't know--"

"I'll read it." It was impossible for her to keep the smugness out of her voice as she spoke over the brainy girl, and with every word of the plaque, her voice shook with barely concealed pride.

"_Beware of the things you can see, and not touch_

_The unfortunate side of the menial crutch_

_Be wary of times when the day turns to night_

_When companions and friends turn away out of fright._

_Take not what's before you, but what lies ahead,_

_lest poisonous sugars await in their stead._

_A treacherous road lies in front and behind_

_it's too late to turn back, you have made up your mind_

_But know this, if your heart's true and blood pure as well_

_You may go with naught but tales of terror to tell."_

Johanna's self-satisfied grin slipped off her face as she realized the meaning of the words she spoke; she was taken by a sudden urge to touch the twinkling, shifting symbols glittering up at her from the ebony surface... they called to her...

"NO!" Ron had run in front of her, his arms spread, careful not to touch the odd stone; he looked more than a litle afraid of her reaction, gulping after the words left his shaking lips. Johanna blinked, staring at him for a moment before shaking her head a bit.

"Thanks for that Firehead. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to bring you along. I don't know what came over me, I just..."

"It doesn't matter."

Johanna looked at Hermione, blinking strangely.

"You're right. We have to decide what we're going to do."

"Well, we're going to have to write the riddle down first, and then decide which way we're going to go, not to mention how we're going to get food or water or do magic or--" It was obvious that Hermione was about to have a serious panic attack, and Harry stepped in, nodding in an attempt to cut the hysterics.

"You're right-- the riddle has to be written down, these things are always more important than you think they are... hopefully, once we go pass this place we can do magic again, and that'll take care of water..."

"Don't worry about the food, we should have enough for a good two weeks. And if anything is overly dangerous, I always have a gun." Johanna stepped forward, adjusting her pack as she spoke. Hermione began to calm down, the rational thinking cooling her helplessness.

Hermione gave Johanna a meaningful look, and the elder grabbed a pen and paper from her bag, handing it to the bushy-haired younger. Johanna repeated it, the pride gone this time; somehow that made the words just a little scarier, a little more foreboding.

"So is this it?" Johanna asked after finishing, her throat oddly sore. "Are we going to go through the door?"

"I don't know," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Certainly isn't the most inviting place, is it?" Ron looked around, biting his lip. "I don't like it, it's like the bloody Third Floor Corridor in first year, you remember that--"

"Well we can't just sit here, Ron. I for one think we should go through it."

"_WHAT?" _The boys exclaimed in unison, incredulous; Johanna, for once, agreed with them.

"What're you like?" Ron asked, suspicious; the girl rolled her eyes at him.

"I have a sneaking suspicion that we've been going around in just one giant circle this whole time... Besides, the door wouldn't be here if we weren't supposed to go through it, right?"

Johanna nodded.

"_Ekse_, for once I agree with Mother Hen; I'm _gatvol_ with this place, going through must be the only..." she trailed off, a thought occurring to her that made her sick to her stomach suddenly. Her face must have changed, because Fire-head suddenly gave her a strange look.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," she bit her lip, fear pooling in the pit of her stomach. "S'just that..."

"What?"

"I think the only way out of this pozzy is to go through the door."

"Well that's simple then, isn't it, what the hell are we waiting for?" He reached for the door and Johanna lunged, terrified.

"NO!" she blocked the entrance, arms outstretched and angry, and he took a step back.

"You _befok,_ _soutie_, didn't you read the plaque? Who knows what kind of blery things are behind there you don't want to be _soeking_ with."

"Well, then, if we're scared of what's behind the bloody door but we need to get past the bloody door, how the hell are we going to get through the bloody frickin' door?"

Johanna gave a rare grin, pulling out a gun from the side of her hip.

"You're gonna let me go first, chommie, and pray that whatever's behind there can be stopped by by fourty-four Magnums."

And with one collective, great breath, the door was kicked open and the lights left behind.

No one noticed the door begin to fade to grey.

* * *

_Glossary_

_Ekse-_ I say

_gatvol- _fed-up, finished with

_pozzy-_ place

_befok- _crazy (not a polite or friendly enquiry. Used when listener has done something really, really stupid.)

_soutie_- short for _soutpiel_, and a derogatory term for an Englishman (often used when the Englishman has spent much time in South Africa, but can be used in the same way as _rooinek_).

_soeking-_ messing, picking a fight with.

_chommie_- friend, buddy-- like the English chum.


	10. Of Knockouts and Findings

A/N: I know it's been an awful long time, and I'm incredibly sorry-- there was a giant, awful, catalyst in my life, a personal tragedy of sorts, and unfortunately it rendered me a bit too shocked and apathetic to write... but now I'm a bit better, anyway, I care more about things.

Dedicated to you, Cisnesinho, love. I hope there's a lot of sushi in heaven.

* * *

It was black-- darker than pitch and thicker than the haze from before. Johanna stifled a gasp, slightly startled at the sudden burst of light coming from the wand, the little stick suddenly flaring back to life-- she put the gun back in its holster, slightly relieved.

"Well, that's two birds with one stone," she murmured, shaking her head as she raised the light around, searching.

It was almost exactly the same as outside the door, except this time the stones were slightly greener, covered in a pea-soup moss that looked more than comfortable and twice as deadly.

"So what do we do now?" A wary-looking Firehead spoke up; she shook her head.

"I'm not sure... what did that poem thing say again?"

"I'm not gonna say the whole bloody thing all over!"

"One of the lines said that 'a treacherous road lies ahead and behind'. I suppose that means that if we go back, we're in danger, and if we go forward, we're... still in danger."

"Thanks Harry, that's comforting."

"Quiet, Ronald." Mother Hen spoke up imperiously from her place at Scarface's side, scuttling closer to the wand in Johanna's hand. "It tells us where _not _to go, and that's just as important as--"

"Will you NAAFI'S just shut up for a minute, ja?" Johanna said quickly-- she thought she had seen a shadow somewhere ahead.

"Whatever. Let's just move on and worry about it later. I've got the skriks." She pulled out the gun again, walking forward towards the shadow.

Suddenly, there was a shift-- a great lurch that lifted everyone off their feet and pushed them on the ground. As she groped for the light, the last thing that occured to Johanna was the eerie, complete silence.

* * *

The Great Hall was simmering, the rumours and barely contained curiosity buoying up the normal dinnertime chatter. A dark cloud came above their heads as the Headmaster stood up; the room instantly silenced.

Dumbledore coughed into his hand. "Many years ago, when I first sat in that chair, it was my hope that I would never have to give this terrible speech to you. Unfortunately, in that respect I have failed you." He coughed again, but the silence held, interrupted only by the shifting and rustling of robes on benches. He gave a grim smile.

"Those of you who were here three years ago may remember the ordeal with what was known as the Chamber of Secrets, a hidden room which contained a terrible, highly dangerous beast that very nearly killed several unlucky students. Now, there is another, much older, much more terrible evil, I'm sorry to say, that lurks beneath these halls.

Those of you who have ever read Hogwarts: A History, which I doubt has been a high priority for many of you; or perhaps, if you are well-versed in the lore of ancient myths and magics, you have probably heard of a place simply called the Labyrinth. This labyrinth has taken three students, as well as one other young woman."

There was an explosion of chatter, a colossal shudder followed by terrified and intrigued whispers. Dumbledore coughed, waiting for it to quiet down; he looked towards Professor Umbridge's empty seat with a slightly worried glance.

"This place is nothing to be laughing about, I'm afraid. It is a very old, very dark place, filled with very powerful magic that has only grown stronger with time. So now, my friends, is when I must make the transition from your friendly neighborhood old man to a stern Headmaster. There are new rules, starting in effect from tonight-- please understand that these rules are truly meant to keep you safe, and I ask that no matter the circumstances, you respect them.

They are as follows-- I would recommend staying up, Mr. Weasley, as you should take special notice:

One: You must be in your dorms by curfew. We will have staff patrolling the corridors as well as checking all dorms, and punishment is double if you are found in violation.

Two: If straying anywhere outside the main classroom area at _any _time, you must have at least one other person with you. For those of you in Potions, Astronomy and/or Divination, this includes the walks to their respective classes, as well as trips from the Great Hall to dorms and Prefect patrols; Hogsmeade trips will also be placed under this limitation.

Three: On pain of extreme and unrelenting punishment, no one is to go inside, or be closer than five feet from the cordoned off areas around the castle. These are crucial to our search for the missing students, and those of you who are found within the boundaries or tampering with the ribbons will recieve a punishment from both myself and your Head of House. Have I made myself clear?"

There was a murmur of confused assent around the Hall, and Dumbledore sighed.

"And, now, before you pair off and go to bed, the final announcement of the night. Would those who have any information pertaining to the current whereabouts of any of the following: Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, or Johanna Roth please come up and talk to either myself or Professor Snape. It is of the gravest and most utmost importance. I thank you all, from the bottom of my heart, and rest assured that I will not rest until everyone is safe and sound in their beds.

Which, it seems, you are late to getting to. Off you go then!" He turned away from the podium, hobbling over to the door and disappearing; Professor Snape stayed close behind, an equally grave look upon his face.

Amidst the chaos, Dolores Umbridge shuffled quietly away, smiling. She left the Great Hall at a run (as best she could) to her office, leering at the fireplace as she tossed the green powder in hastily and let the name spill out of her mouth. Seconds later, a suave face appeared among the flames.

"Whatever you're calling me for, Dolores, it better be good, I'm on my way back to South Africa on a lead, and if you--"

"Call off the search."

"_What?"_ She grinned, at his incredulous face, licking her lips as if she had just stuffed herself with the good news; she would enjoy this.

"Call off the search."

"What the hell do you mean, Dolores, calling off the search! We've been looking for her for years, she's the last one of them, I've heard nothing from Cornelius--"

"I found her, Adolph."

There was nothing but spluttering from him-- his jaw dropped.

"You mean..."

"Yes."

"You found..."

"Obviously."

"But how the hell... I mean, what the... where is she?"

The woman's smile got even wider, narrowing her eyes.

"Hogwarts."

* * *

NAAFI- No Ambition And F&!-All Interest

skriks- frights


	11. Of Unknown Spells and Unexpected Voices

Johanna looked up, cursing as grey dust fell into her eyes. She tried to look around her, to see where she was, but it was too dark- she couldn't see anything. It was too dark.

_Too _dark.

"Harry? Ron?" The small, frail voice of her least-liked traveling companion rose from the black beside her- she waved her arms around cautiously. She made contact with something, and it clutched her arm.

"Harry? Ron?" She asked again, and Johanna shook her off, annoyed.

"If I didn't answer the first time, you probably don't need to ask a second," she said, scowling. "Does your magic stick work in here, girl?"

There was a small shuffling before a small, faint light came on-barely enough to light a foot in front of her. Johanna swore.

"Is that the best you can do?" Hermione nodded, looking puzzled.

"Usually it's much lighter than this, I'm doing the strongest spell there is, but-"

"Hermione! Hermione, is that you?" The girl in question whipped her head around wildly.

"Ron?"

"Yeah, it's me- Harry's here too."

"Oh thank goodness. I'm here with Johanna, and-"

She was cut off by a giant shake, tearing the two women off their feet and tossing them on the ground.

"Mother Hen. You ok?" Johanna said quickly, and she saw a faint light flicker.

"Yes," was the reply, after a few moments." How about you?" Johanna grunted.

"I've been better. You two _pommies_ alright?" she yelled, and Hermione clutched her arm again, drawing a breath in; Johanna didn't shake her off this time.

"Yeah, we're alright. What the hell is this place?"

"That's a great question, bru. Is that really the lightest you can make that, Mother Hen?"

Johanna could see the girl's mouth open to reply, when the light grew bright. She grunted at Hermione's surprised face, grabbing the wand from her hand.

"Oi, you two, what do you see?" There was the sound of some shuffling and whispering before a reply- that was good.

It meant they were close.

"Not much. You?"

"Not much means kak-shit. What do you see?"

"Hell, Johanna, not much! What the fuck else am I going to say?"

"Ronald!"

"Sorry 'Mione, but really. Fine, I'll tell you. I see a wall. To my left there's... oh. Another wall. And two more on the other sides. And a floor. And Harry."

Johanna smiled. "Now, was that so hard?"

She heard mumbled swear words, and lifted the wand so she could look around her.

It was the same for her. Walls on all sides, higher than the light could reach; but pristine, no grey dust, nothing. As if it had been finished and cleaned and polished an hour before.

"How did we get separated?"

There was a soft creaking- like gears starting to move, and Johanna stayed the other girl with a hand.

"Oi, muggies, is your side clean?"

There was silence for a moment.

"Yeah, actually. That's kind of stra-"

Before Ron could finish his sentence, there was a small ping, and the wall opposite the boys began moving. Johanna and Hermione froze.

"What the hell's going on, Johanna?" Hermione whispered.

"The wall's moving down, isn't it?" Hermione said, again, after a moment.

"The wall isn't moving down, girls." Johanna grimaced. _Kak_.

"The floor's moving up."

_"Moving up?"_ Hermione whispered, and Johanna shot her a scathing look; it softened when she saw the true terror on the girl's face.

"Alright, let's not panic yet. Is there any magic you lot know to slow this thing down?"

"Mione? Anything?" The dirty blonde next to her shook her head in reply and Johanna swore.

"_Gatvol!"_

The ceiling was less than five feet above them.

"Okay, well, lay down when it gets closer, so that we have more room. BOYS, LAY DOWN!" Johanna yelled, and she felt wetness on her arm. She groaned.

"Look, Mother Hen, now is _not_ the time. Can you think of anything at all?"

"_Nothing_," she whispered, tearful, and Johanna rolled her eyes. She was scared too, but her fear was hot, dynamic, so she could push it away- Hermione's was not, and so it froze her and made her inept. The girl beside her began to shake, and Johanna gripped her arm.

"Mother Hen... Mo- Oh, for fuck's sake, _HERMIONE!" _Hermione looked up, her name jolting her, and Johanna grinned.

"We're gonna be alright, ok, we're gonna be just fuckin' blery fine, but I need your help. Now point your little stick at the ceiling and _say something."_

_"_Harry, Ron, any ideas?"

The ceiling was less than three feet away. Johanna let her hand move towards her gun in a moment of panic, but she quickly tore it away- the bullet would do no good, this was nothing of flesh, and the blery thing would just ricochet until it hit either of them anyway.

There was no answer from the boys as of yet, and Hermione asked again. "BOYS!"

"Nothing, we got nothing, Hermione."

"Er..._Defodio!"_

It kept coming. Hermione looked upward.

"Girl, just say anything that comes to your mind, I don't care if it makes sense or not, just _say it for fucks sake!"_

Hermione shrieked, startled by Johanna's intensity, but a stern expression molded itself onto her face and she nodded.

"Diffindo! Reducto! Evanesco! Oh, Merlin,_ Finite Incantatem!" _She yelled at the ceiling fiercely, the grey tiles now less than two feet from her face, her wand pressed against the floor.

"I'm trying to think, Johanna, I'm trying, I swe-"

"What. Mother Hen, what in fuck's name are you making that face for?"

"Harry? Harry, do you remember the statue of the witch, the one over Honeydukes? What did you say to open it?"

"Dissendium?"

The floor stopped moving, jolting their faces enough so their foreheads made contact with the icy surface of the ceiling. Johanna breathed, relieved.

"Kak, that scared me. Now what do we-"

The gear sound began to start up again, louder this time; but the ceiling itself began to separate, tiles pulling away from each other before pulling up and away into the darkness. Suddenly, they were upside down, and fell off of what had been the floor onto what felt like waxed wood.

They didn't even have time to hug each other before the voice began.

"Hello," it said, voice rich and layered, like musical molasses. "I hope the door didn't give you too much trouble. We wouldn't want you to end before you've even begun."

"Who are you?" Ron asked, inching towards Hermione.

The four could _feel _a grin through the darkness.

"Welcome to the Labyrinth."


End file.
